Rachel's Viewfinder

Perhaps one of my most favorite personal projects from this past year was making the curtain for my husband and my bedroom.  When we got married, the decor in the living room quickly fell into place.  It has the feeling of a sea-farer’s tropical retreat, complete with a palm plant and prints of tall ships.  That feeling carried through our whole apartment…except to our bedroom.  For the longest time, it just was a blank room.

Last fall, a number of things happened. Our makeshift curtain of a black sheet broke, my parents came to visit for a week, and we had to buy a new comforter for the bed.  With my parents sleeping in our living room, I needed another place to feel at home.  But the bedroom (and only other room in our small apartment) didn’t feel like home yet.  Even when we bought the new comforter, it still felt like a hotel room.  We started looking at curtains in Bed, Bath and Beyond, Wal-Mart, Target…nothing fit the tropical retreat motif we had throughout the apartment.  And the size curtains we needed for that window were going to be expensive.

What’s a creative girl to do with that? Design her own, of course. Robo contributed significantly to the decor of the living room and it’s arrangement.  So together we went to Hancock Fabrics, and we started hunting for curtain materials.  We found a brown striped fabric that matched the tone of the new comforter.  Then, we found a huge, over-sized hibiscus flower print fabric.  At first, we thought a rope detail would be nice, but then Robo found this trim made of wooden discs. Staring at the combination in line at the cutting counter made me think twice.  But it all seemed to feel right…I got the materials home and began the final design process.

It took me most of a weekend to put the whole thing together. Our curtain is lined by the same old black sheet we originally used to cover the window.  It blocks the light from the street lamps.  At the top, the hibiscus print fabric adds a splash of color, while the brown stripe mimics our comforter.  The wooden discs add the perfect detail.  After we got it hung, we moved one of our side chairs to the window, added in our dragon tree, Herbert, and hung up my old paper lanterns.

Today, that window is one of my most favorite places in our whole apartment.  In the morning, sunshine streams in thorough the leaves outside our window.  Herbert has grown a few inches and will need a new pot soon.  But best of all is the curtain.  Sitting in the chair and drinking a cup of tea in the light of that window makes me feel at home.

“Next time I see you, I’ll be a married woman!!!” I shouted to the Charlotte skyline as Robo and I drove to Ohio two days after his car accident. It was the final week to a crazy, whirlwind ride that would culminate in our wedding. The old saying says the “darkest hour is before dawn.” Little did we know what the next week held in store!

The week before the wedding was a flurry…literally! My parents arrived in Ohio just a few days ahead of us to help with the wedding preparations. They were to first meet Robo’s parents Sunday evening. Come to find out, our parents bumped into each other Saturday afternoon at a health food store in Mansfield. Having already met, all the awkward, “These are my mom and dad, this is his mom and dad,” stuff was out of the way. We laughed, and began figuring out to launch the final plans for the wedding.

That’s when the biggest snowstorm in 30 years started to hit most of the Midwest! The clear skies and bare ground of the weekend was replaced Tuesday morning with clouds and white. While central Ohio was covered in snow, Robo and I watched as all our carefully laid plans for the week began to blow apart with every gust of wind. We manage to make it to my cousin’s—and officiating pastor’s!—house that evening, but we had no word on the flowers we were supposed to pick up that day.

The storm continued into Wednesday. My parents made it over to Robo’s parents house again, and we spent the day doing the only thing we could: making the decorations for the wedding, and doing the final fitting for my dress. I had put on a bit of weight (too much stress eating), but it still fit! Still no word on the flowers. And my maid of honor called to say that she was coming down with a cold and had no car insurance on her car, and that one of my bridesmaids was stuck in jury duty the Friday they were supposed to leave for Ohio. Oh Lord!

Thursday, the dust settled only for a few hours. While driving to another cousin’s house to use her huge kitchen space to begin food prep, Robo slid our only car into an icy snowbank. Mel’s road had become one solid sheet of ice over the past two days. Thankfully, a plow truck came by 30 minutes after we landed in the snowbank. He kindly pulled us out and we continued to Mel’s. I again called for my flowers. And again, I got no answer. I began to resign myself that I was probably going to have to use the silk flowers we bought for the decorations. Egh! The other bad news was that my maid of honor was too sick to travel. I made a quick change of plans, and asked my mom to be my matron of honor instead. The good news was that my bridesmaid had gotten out of jury duty.

T-minus One Day and counting, otherwise known as Friday, came too fast. Everybody was going everywhere. That morning, Robo had to go to the chiropractor, my parents hunted down the place for my flowers and found them waiting, and then they and Robo’s mom went to the church to start food prep. Robo and I had to get my car aligned. We finally made it to the church about 3:00 in the afternoon. I got started decorating my cake, while Robo left to go pick up our cupcakes in Mansfield. While he was at it, he had to stop at the chiropractor’s again. And search for a special audio cable. And find DVDs. And make it back to the church by 6:00 for our rehearsal.

I had one thing I wanted to complete that day: making credits for our wedding ceremony. I didn’t start them until 5:00pm. Frazzled, tired, and frustrated, I stopped to go over final details with my violinist, learn my part for the ceremony (basically, just stand here, walk there, say this, etc…), and nearly broke down crying in frustration. And the credits weren’t done at all. But at least I had my flowers!

My bridal party, violinist, and sister Emmalee had made it to Willard, Ohio just in time to help Friday with decorating the sanctuary. We all went out after the rehearsal for supper. I was staying with my parents my final night as a single woman, so we parted ways. But my cousins wanted to see me that night. A sort of, final-night-as-a-single-woman celebration. Exhausted, my parents and I showed up at 10:30pm. We hung out, chatted, laughed, but I was getting more and more tired. Finally, at about 11:30, I collapsed behind my Dad as he was playing the Wii. All I wanted to do was go home.

The BIG DAY came, cold and brisk. My parents picked up my sister Janine and her boyfriend from the train station in Sandusky at 3:30am. By 7:30 we were on the road to the church. I was riding with my sister, working on the credits I hadn’t finished the night before. We got to the church, and I went to the bride’s ready room to finish the credits from the night before, and to relax. Meanwhile, everybody else was flying around me. Robo was about putting the finishing touches on everything, my sisters kept me supplied with food and updates about what was going on, and my mother and bridesmaids kept a countdown and plan in place to get everybody dressed in time.

I finished the credits with a hour to spare. My bridesmaids got me ready, and before I knew it, Mom was peeking out into the hall to make sure the Groom and his merry band of men has left to stand at the front of the sanctuary. Dad took one look at me and gave me a kiss before we stepped down the hall together. There was a part of me feeling overwhelmed that all the hassle, stress and prep leading up to the day came down to just a few short moments. The movies always make it seem bigger and grander. But, walking down the aisle I realized that the day—and all the hassle before and to come—was just another part of life. Special and grand, and indeed worth all the stress.

And yet… Our wedding wasn’t big or spectacular. Neither was it skimpy. All the food was gluten-free (YAY!) and great. We had the flowers, cupcakes and glass bottled soda we worked so hard for. The music was provided by my record player and Robo’s computer. Robo and I danced and he wowed everybody with his newly acquired moves. All that happened on one Big Day, February 5, 2011. Just another day. But still…a very special day. And—to coin a phrase—it was good.

I had a funny experience happen a week ago.  It was a little thing, but when it happened I couldn’t help but stop and pause and go, “Wow!”

Two weeks ago I took my first week-long vacation in five years.  It was a desperately needed break!  This summer has been a whirlwind of production, resulting in eight videos from Summer SIMCO, media pieces for the Homes for Hope Benefit Concert, 17 video projects from Africa (now in various stages of completion), and a SIMposium on SIM’s work in Southern Sudan.  On top of that, I’ve moved four times, borrowed three cars…a very full summer to say the least! I needed a break, and so I flew up to Boston, Massachusetts.

Boston is my most favorite place in the world.  New England is the sort of place that gets under your skin.  It was awesome getting to be in the place I still consider my “home.”  The gentle rolling hills of Southern New Hampshire and Massachusetts are peppered with towns dating back to the 1600’s.  Architecture is old, and everywhere there are old colonial houses.  Driving around and looking at them kept making my mind sigh and promise that someday I’d live in one.

By the end of the week, I was preparing to leave New England with a very heavy heart.  Years ago as a little kid, I promised myself that someday I’d live in New England.  When I was in my teens, I promised myself again.

Now I’m living in Charlotte, NC, working as a media missionary with SIM USA.  The possibility has come up of me even going overseas in a year or so to continue my work.  Exciting ministry opportunities!  Yet…Boston has always been in the back of my mind.  It’s been the place I call home.  Even though I moved to Charlotte from Upstate NY, Boston is my home.  It’s defined my sense of place for a very long time.  This summer, and even before April when I moved here permanently, all I wanted to was to feel like I was at home.  The in-between homes feeling as I kept shifting back and forth between Charlotte, NC, and Oxford, NY, kept intensifying that feeling.  Going to Boston on vacation was one of the greatest things I could have done to satisfy that longing.  But at the same time, it was one of the worst.

Because I had to leave at the end of the week.  The last few days in New England were the hardest.  I knew I was leaving soon.  I didn’t want to.  I found myself trying to think of ways I could stay.  Yes, seriously I was thinking of how I could stay.

But I got on that plane to come home.  On the ride back to Logan Airport, I said good-bye again, and shoved my old childhood promises out of my mind.  It hurt to see Boston Harbor and the city skyline sitting there, knowing that I couldn’t stick around to enjoy it any more.  But determined not to cry, I waved good-bye and let it go.

Later Monday evening, after arriving home and quickly settling back into life and work in Charlotte, I crashed into my bed and snuggled under my covers.  I sighed, and thought, “It’s good to be home in my own bed.”

Then I blinked.

“Home? In Charlotte?”

It was an odd feeling to have at 11:30pm as I was drifting off to sleep.  For so long all I had wanted was to go home to Boston so I could feel at home.  And here I had just been there.  And while it was home in a sense of place, it wasn’t home in a sense of living. My own house and my own bed were in Charlotte.

My home is now Charlotte.

The other day I was talking with some girl friends, encouraging them in their walk with the Lord.  They were prayerfully praying to the Lord about some tough decisions in their lives.  I challenged them to let go, and let God provide.  It’s a lesson Jesus has taught me while serving as a missionary.  One of my dear girls said to me, “How? I look and you and I go, ‘How does she do that?’ How do you do it?!”

I replied as best as I could, but the full impact and answer to her question didn’t hit until later that evening.

I literally have no other choice. 

In March, Jesus moved in my heart that I was to return to Charlotte full time in April.  He clearly told me, “Go; I will provide.”  So I returned to Charlotte, even though I didn’t have 100% financial support.  It seemed a little crazy, but Jesus kept reassuring me He would provide.  When I arrived in Charlotte, I didn’t have a car, or a permanent place to stay.  For the past five months, I’ve stayed in four different places, seeming to move once a month!  And though I still don’t have a car, Jesus has provided people willing to let me borrow their extra vehicles.

Some of the things I never could have expected that Jesus was providing for!  I had to move rather quickly from my last place of residence.  It required moving all of my things from there to SIM USA’s warehouse until Jesus lined up another place to stay.  A month before, friends had let me borrow their truck to get around Charlotte.  I didn’t know why God provided a truck until I needed all that bed space to move my stuff to the warehouse!  If I had been driving a compact car, like I originally was hoping to borrow, I wouldn’t have been able to move my things to my new house this past weekend!

Again this morning, Jesus reminded me of His provision.  I’ve been out of money from this month’s pay for almost a week now.  I got an unexpected phone bill in the mail this morning.  The check needed to be in the mail today to avoid late fees, and I’m not getting my next financial payout until Monday.  Wondering how I could pay this without any money in my checkbook, I checked my bank account.  I didn’t know how much was in there, but I knew there was a little to keep the account open.  As I checked my online statement, Jesus whispered, “Trust me.”  The amount in my checking account was $19 and change.  I needed $11.60 for the bill.  I’d still have $7 to keep the account open!

I went to write the check, and then realized I needed change to buy a stamp for the envelope.  I went through my wallet, and came up with 31 cents.  I went through all the other pockets in my wallet, my bag … nothing.  Knowing I had to write the check, I pulled out my pen, through my wallet in my bag and filled out the check.  As I got up to go ask one of my coworkers for the extra 13 cents to buy a stamp, Jesus said, “Check your wallet again.”  I had just checked it five minutes ago.  But I checked it.  Tucked in between a wad of receipts was another quarter.  Feeling a lot like Peter pulling the drachma out of fish’s mouth, I went and bought my stamp, and mailed in my bill.

My God is an AWESOME GOD!